Through Effie's Eyes
by CarolVAmellark
Summary: What goes on in Effie Trinket's head? See what she's thinking and feeling of what's around her during the 74th Hunger Games. -R&R,give me ideas,and thanks.-
1. Chapter 1: The Reaping

It is almost two o'clock when the reaping begins. I take my place on the podium next to the mayor, Mayor Undersee. An empty chair on my left. Haymitch Abernathy, the only living victor of District 12. I shake my head to myself. That drunk man is barely ever sober. What a shame, this district. I hope I'll get promoted to a better one, like District 4 at least. I don't deserve this district, but I've only been an escort for 3 years, so they placed me at 12 first.

I fidget with my bright pink hair, _wig _I should say. Underneath is my plain old washed out-coloured hair that never stays the way I want it to. Plus, it's _so_ not in the Capitol right now. I must be the only lively-looking person here in this whole district right now. Everyone here is so dull and plain. But to be honest, if the bright hair wasn't popular, I would've envied their hair—long, slightly tangled, but such pure colours. No. What am I thinking?

The mayor begins talking just as the town clock strikes two. He talks about the story of Panem, the Dark Days, and how we, I mean _they_, must pay: by the Hunger Games. It's always the same story every year, but I find myself intrigued. He reads the list of past victors from District 12. Unsurprisingly, there has only been two and one is still alive. Speaking of which, is now staggering onto the stage. Haymitch comes to me and gives me a big—and quite frightening—hug. Which during he messes up my wig, making it look slightly off-center.

The mayor looks distressed and embarrassed, because this reaping is being aired right now. He gets everyone back to the reaping by finally introducing me. I walk happily up to the podium and say brightly, "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be_ ever _in your favor!"

After I'm done my little speech about my honor being here and such (completely untrue), I say, "Ladies first!" and walk over to the glass ball. I reach in and pull up a piece of paper.

The name on this tiny piece of paper is of the young girl who will be one of the tributes of District 12. The name of the girl that is most likely going to end up dead in about a week. This girl was chosen by me.

I walk back to the podium, unfold and smooth the piece of crumpled paper and announce her name to District 12.

This girl is Primrose Everdeen.


	2. Chapter 2: The Tributes

A young girl that I'd have to say is twelve begins to take small steps towards the stage. Clenched fists at her sides, I could tell she is fighting to hold back the tears and keep the posture. Reminds me a bit of me.

Primrose has soft blond hair, with amazing light eyes that seem to be blue, though I can't exactly see clearly. It's always too bad to see a twelve year-old tribute go into the Games, knowing she's quite too innocent and will be dead in most likely less than a day.

Just as she is about to mount the steps to the stage, a taller, older, darker girl cries out, "Prim!" She begins running to Primrose, not even having to push her way through the crowd, because the other kids have already backed off and made a path for her. "Prim!" she gasps.

She shoves Primrose behind her and shouts, "I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!"

It's odd that this all happened so fast, and this girl seems to really care about Primrose, even though they barely look related. I take a better look as this strange girl.

She has black hair, braided on her head, and gray eyes that most people seem to have here. She is also darker, more of an olive color I would say. She looks to be about sixteen or seventeen, and also looks more fit.

I also realize that it is very rare for District 12 to have a child volunteer. I don't even remember a time that that's even happened, which certainly adds a spark to the Hunger Games this year.

"Lovely!" I say. "But I believe there's a small matter of introducing the reaping winner and then asking for volunteers, and if one does come forth then we, um…" I segue, honestly unsure of where I'm going with this.

"What does it matter?" the mayor says gruffly. "What does it matter?" he repeats. "Let her come forward." Ughh. Touchy.

My attention comes back to Primrose now, screaming behind the volunteer girl with her frail arms wrapped around her stomach to keep her from stepping forward. "No, Katniss! No! You can't go!"

This Katniss girl just looks straight ahead and says to Primrose, "Prim, let go." 'Prim' doesn't listen to her and continues screaming and shrieking. I would've if I were her, judging from the way Katniss said it so harshly and commanding. An older boy about eighteen that looks frankly like Katniss comes up behind Prim and lifts her off the ground and from Katniss.

"Up you go, Catnip," he says, and carries Prim off to her mother I suppose.

This is weird. First of all, I have a fellow escort friend named Catnip that's also from the Capitol. I always adored her name; it was quite feisty. Second, I thought the girl's name was Katniss? Third, why would a boy let his younger sister go off to die for a girl that isn't even related to her? In District 12, too!

My thoughts turn back to the reaping, as the volunteer ( Katniss or Catnip, or whatever her name is) walks up the stage. "Well, bravo!" I gush. "That's the spirit of the Games! What's your name?" And trust me, I was so confused about that.

"Katniss Everdeen."

Ah. "I bet my buttons that was your sister. Don't want her to steal all the glory, do we? Come on, everybody! Let's give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!"

The most embarrassing thing happens: nobody claps for her at all. Not a single noise. I don't want to be rude, but I had to keep myself from laughing. Then, everyone in the crowd touches the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and holds it out to Katniss. Huh. What an odd gesture, it must mean something like 'goodbye' or 'congratulations' to them.

Haymitch suddenly comes up to Katniss and flings his arm around her shoulders and shouts, "Look at her! Look at this one! I like her!

"Lots of…spunk! More than you!" he points directly into a camera.

Oh, boy, this drunk man certainly is not going to be able to keep these tributes alive.

Just as I'm about to say something, he continues to holler and then falls off the stage, knocking himself unconscious. _Idiot_, I think to myself.

As he's whisked away on his stretcher, I regain focus as I say cheerfully, "What an exciting day! But more excitement to come! It's time to choose our boy tribute!"

It's quite a breezy day so I place my hand on my wig to make sure it doesn't fall off, and reach in with my right hand to pick up the slip of the boy's name.

"Peeta Mellark!" I say hopefully cheerfully, trying hard not to giggle right then and there in front of the whole district. Who names their child _Peeta_ after a kind of bread? It must be one of those families that have some kind of connection to something, like 3 sisters I once knew named Crystal, Pearl, and Jade. And also another family from District 8 with names like Cotton, Cashmere, Silk, Linen…the youngest one was even named after _organic _cotton! Like what the heck is that?

Anyway, a tall, stocky-built, blond, boy about Katniss' age walks up the stage, avoiding eye contact with anybody on the stage. I congratulate him and a few people clap for him, as the mayor steps up to read the Treaty of Treason. He finishes and tells Katniss and _Peeta_ to shake hands.

As Peeta gives Katniss a shake, I notice a firm squeeze from him. Is it a message of sorts? He looks at her with a mysterious look on his face. I'm going to have to figure out what that was.

The national anthem begins playing as I think of who's odds will soon be ever in their favor.


	3. Chapter 3: On Our Way

As soon as the anthem ends, the tributes are ushered into the Justice Building where they will have one hour of goodbyes and good lucks with their family and friends before we will all be on our way to the Capitol.

I am directed to a small room to wait with Haymitch—the idea is revolting—while Katniss and Peeta have their hour. Great. A whole hour in a slightly confined space with the most intoxicating person in all of Panem. Normally in other districts the Justice Building and its rooms would be more grand and large than this one, but I guess you've got to take what you can get.

Haymitch walks in about 20 minutes later, looking a bit steadier and cleaned up. I eye him as he half-walks and half-drags himself over to the couch across from the one I'm sitting on. He sits down and stares at me. Awkwardly, I say, "So, Haymitch—"

I am interrupted as he belches loudly. Ugghh. It sends goose bumps on my skin. Nauseated, I give a small cough and start again. "So, Haymitch, what do you think of our tributes this year?"

He continues staring at me for about another minute before shrugging. After ten more minutes of horrible silence, he speaks. Finally.

"Why is your hair pink?"

_Why is your hair pink?_ Is he serious? "It is the style nowadays, and you obviously wouldn't have known because you too busy drowning yourself in spirits," I snapped.

The rest of the hour was agonizing. He didn't speak much, and when he did he asked only random and dumb questions.

It was finally over when we met up with the tributes again and made our way to the train station in a car. There are so many cameras flashing and the station is swarming with reporters and crews. I flash pleasant smiles and even toss my hair for one picture, resulting in the wig almost falling off.

Once we are on the train, I tell Katniss and Peeta to do anything they want and wear anything they want in their rooms. They deserve it for the last week of their lives, after all.

I soon call Peeta and Katniss for supper in the dining room. As soon as I come back from calling Katniss, I notice the empty chair beside Peeta and relief floods through me. "Where's Haymitch?" I ask, already guessing the answer.

"Last time I saw him, he said he was going to take a nap," says Peeta.

"Well, it's been an exhausting day," I say.

Our supper comes in courses as I keep telling them each time to save space for more food to come. "At least, you two have decent manners. The pair last year ate everything with their hands like a couple of savages. It completely upset my digestion," I say as we're on the last course. I remember those two last year, Sofie Ferlans and Jeque Rochal. They both died immediately in the bloodbath in the Games last year, not even standing a chance from the beginning. Well I guess they ate like that because they most likely starved long enough back in District 12.

Katniss gives me a pointed look and eats the rest of her food with her fingers, wiping them on the tablecloth in the end, at least. What a rebellious girl.

After supper, we go to a different compartment to watch the recap of all the reapings in Panem. They all go by as I quickly memorize all of their first names in order, just in case.

1-Glimmer, Marvel

2-Clove, Cato

3-Iris, Karlon

4-Shelli, Tridan

5-Finra, Liam,

6-Wischa, Dorrik

7-Mayden, Ronn

8-Gabardine, Lace

9-Fallon, Fredrik

10-Jess, Konner

11-Rue, Thresh

I almost forgot that Katniss and Peeta were tributes, too. I can't quite read their expressions right now, though Haymitch looks as if he'll be snoring in a matter of seconds. The day thankfully ends as we all make our way back to our rooms. Well, at least, I think that's what happens. I notice Peeta talking to Katniss on their way back to the hallway to their rooms.

That's weird. Usually most tributes from the same district (except careers) always seem to stay away from each other because they see no point in befriending them since they know they might have to kill them. But Peeta is just casual. Talking to his fellow tribute as if they've talked a million times before. Unless that's the case…

I suppose it's really been a long and tiring day, after all. We'll be in the Capitol soon, that's what matters.

Home, sweet home.


	4. Chapter 4: Arriving

**Thanks so much for the review, guys! Very supportive! If you have any suggestions, let me know! I need some other things that would go on in Effie's head and I can't really think of much.. **

I wake up to my alarm clock. The same alarm clock that's been waking me up ever since I became an escort. Now _I'll_ have to be an alarm.

"Up, up, up! It's going to be a big, big, big day!"

I shout as a walk past Katniss', Peeta's, and Haymitch's doors. I walk back to my room as I remember a dream I had last night about being in the Hunger Games.

I was wearing the same outfit I had worn to the District 12 reaping, and one of my stiletto heels were broken. My feet were swollen, I was unbelievably thirsty for the first time, and there was blood everywhere. Then Haymitch was there. It became nightmare just like that.

Oh, well. Lucky for me, I will never have to worry about that. That's exactly the best thing about being a Capitol person. Freedom and privileges.

Ten minutes later I make my way to the dining room, and I see that Haymitch and Peeta are already there. I get myself some coffee.

"Sooo, Effie," Haymitch says, dragging the words, "how did you sleep last night?"

"I slept fine, thank you very much," I say flatly. He looks at me with a mysterious smile on his face. "Really? Then was it me, or did I walked past by your room last night from the bar to hear you gasping my name repeatedly?"

What is he saying? Oh no. Do I really talk in my sleep? My face reddens with anger and embarrassment as I try to imagine what he's thinking. "You were drunk, Haymitch."

I walk away with my cup of coffee, muttering, "Ridiculous, drunken idiot…"under my breath as I hear him chuckling and Katniss enters the room.

I leave the dining room with my cup of black coffee as I decide to go make a phone call to one of my fellow escort friends. There's a phone in my room, so I go back there and start dialing.

"Hello?"

"Daisy? It's me, Effie."

There's a pause as I think she registers this. "Oh! Effie! How is everything?"

"As usual, I guess. But now I hate the mentor even more."

"Oh, I'm sure he just has a little crush on you by making you hate him," she giggles. "Well, I'm doing great here with the District 9s," she continues, "Fallon is incredibly sweet and perfect, and Fredrik will do great in the Games. Though their mentors, Nadie and Timon are just so snobby. They keep giving me dirty looks and they never talk to me."

"They're probably just jealous because we're from the Capitol and they're District people. Anyways, I guess I'll see you later, then! Goodbye!"

#########

A few hours later we finally arrive at the Capitol. I can feel the train slowing down at the station. I walk up to the windows to see millions of people and cameras flashing. I quickly spot Daisy and another friend, Julius, waiting there and smiling brightly at me through the window. I'm surprised those two actually made it here. I thought they'd be stuck somewhere with their tributes. Julius is the escort for District 3. All of the escorts know each other and are friendly with each other, well, except for the District 5, Muffee. We all despise her because she tried to cheat in the Games by sneaking into to sponsorship room to do who knows what.

During the Games, we escorts can mostly go wherever we want, but some of us like to stay in the Escorts' Room to lounge and watch the Hunger Games from there. I usually just leave after our tributes are killed in the beginning, and go hang out with other Capitol people I know.

I stand before the doors as the attendants tell us we can begin to make our way out. Standing in front of Katniss and Peeta preparing to lead the way, and I think of what will wait for us on the other side of the doors as they begin to slide open to a million flashing radiances.


	5. Chapter 5: The Opening Ceremony

**Hey! It's been a while, hasn't it? Well, hopefully you guys still have faith in me and my story, and PLEASE PLEASE help me with ideas on what else should happen in this story with Effie. I'll give you credit, I promise! Thanks! **

I sit here in the lounge of the Remake Center, waiting for Katniss and Peeta to be styled for the opening ceremonies, and catching up on the latest news with Daisy and Julius.

It's been such a long time sing I got to do this, and so far we've been talking for about three hours now.

"So, did you hear?" says Daisy for the umpteenth time. "Finnick Odair is said to be dating! Isn't that horrible? I've been with him twice and he's already forgotten me!"

Ahh, Finnick Odair, lovely young man. He was the victor for the 65th Hunger Games, a gorgeous and stunning young boy. He's in his twenties now, and ever since he won, Daisy has been telling me about him supposedly going around with a lot of the women in the Capitol, like a sex symbol. Nobody in the districts know this, of course, and I'm not even sure _I'm _supposed to know this either.

Even Julius is interested in this topic, and I can't seem to figure out what's goes on in his head about it. "I_ know_, right? He was with my sister once last year and I'm still so jealous!" I smile. Ah, now I see.

We gush for a few more hours until Flavius, one of Katniss' prep team stylists, comes to our lounge to announce that the tributes are ready and that the opening ceremonies will begin soon. I squeal and make my way to the City Circle in a large car with Haymitch and the rest of Katniss and Peeta's prep teams. It's quite stuffy, must I say, but I could tell as I look around at everyone in the car, that they're just anxious to see the tributes at the opening ceremony.

When we finally arrive at the City Circle, we make our way through the crowd and take a seat with the best view from one of the buildings next to President Snow's mansion. There are large crowds here and there, and pounding music suddenly flows and bursts throughout the streets. I see District 1's chariot first, being pulled by beautiful white horses, and the tributes look stunning as they always are. District 2, with the large, terrifying boy in a large armour suit. His costume makes him look even more frightening and intimidating than he is. I don't really pay attention to the other districts, until District 12 appears.

I let out something between a squeal and a gasp. They look…good. I mean, amazingly, _breathtaking good. _They are both dressed in black unitards, with large headpieces and fiery capes that are on fire. They really _are_ onfire. The capes and headpieces brings out their faces and makes it look like they are glowing. This is spectacular! No stylist had ever managed to make the District 12 tributes look this good!

I am so excited as President Snow is reading his welcoming speech. It sky grow darker, and it only makes Katniss and Peeta harder to not look at. They are the only ones you can see, illuminating the night.

The ceremony is done and we all go to the Training Center, where the tributes will be staying until the Games. I literally skip my way to the door to find Katniss and Peeta, for the first time expecting something good and exciting to happen.

**Thanks for reading, if you are. :D Well, yea, so please read and review, andgive me ideas, you know the drill. **

**(;**


	6. Chapter 6: Oddness And a Good Pair

**Hello there! I know, I haven't written in, like, a year. Forgive me? Yes, I am ashamed. But I've gotten back on track, soo.. here you go! **

**Carol**

The Training Center is as grand as I remember it. A tall tower with floors for each district. So, of course, we get the twelfth. My insides are boiling with anxiety and excitement at the same time as I escort Katniss and Peeta back here. After the Opening Ceremony all I did was brag on to other citizens of the Capitol about how successful my tributes will be in the Games, in order to help win them some voters and sponsors.

Wow. That grand opening of theirs has definitely changed my impression of them.

I even told Daisy that, I quote, "If you put enough pressure on coal, it turns into pearls!" How brilliant and wise it was of me to even think of that! You're too good, Effie.

I let Katniss and Peeta go off to their rooms as I make my way to mine to freshen up before dinner. After I do so, I sit down on the couch and turn on the Screen. They are showing a quick recount of who the tributes are, and surprisingly, mentors, also.

I recognise Cashmere from District One, the one and only Finnick Odair from Four, and, of course, my very own Haymitch.

OUR! _O-Our _Haymitch, I meant.

xxxxxxxxX

It's about time for dinner, so I leave my quarters to call the tributes down too. I decide to be a good sport and call Haymitch, also.

I go to his room to find him sprawled out on the large purple couch, watching the Screen casually. He notices me standing at the door and says smugly, "Couldn't resist me, could you, Eff?"

I scowl at him. "Dinner."

He chuckles heavily and gets up, and I walk to the dining room. He really knows how to annoy people, doesn't he? He should me treating _me _with respect! I feel terribly sorry for the kids. To have someone like _him_ for a mentor. Oh, dear. Hopefully they are good enough on their own.

In the dining room, Peeta and their two stylists are already there on the balcony, and in no later than 5 minutes Katniss and Haymitch are here.

Wow, Haymitch cleans up well, I think. He's wearing a full purple Grangé Lou suit, which is a very expensive, popular collection, mind you. He also shaved well, too! I must say, I am impressed.

No! Stop it, Effie! You were _not _just considering him!

Dinner goes well, actually. We talk about the stylists work on the Opening Ceremony, and for once Haymitch and I aren't giving each other snide looks! Everything seems to pass by quickly, in fact, but something odd happens along the way. Katniss claims she knows one of the Avoxes.

Avoxes, obviously, are people who commit crime and are punished by having their tongues cut off by the Capitol. It's disgusting, I know. It is highly unlikely that Katniss would know the girl. Then Peeta says that the Avox looks like some girl they knew in District 12. Hmm. Odd, indeed...

For the rest of the night my mind focuses on the outcome of the Games, secretly hoping Katniss or Peeta will survive the bloodbath, unlike the last tributes. I know it is rude to secretly think that, but all the escorts don't really give a care towards their tributes. But I think _I _do, this year. Although the tributes leave me, Haymitch, and the stylist in the sitting room to converse and such about our plans, the only thing my head really keeps thinking about is this:

_We've got a good one this year._

**Thank you for reading! ;) **

**Please review to let me know if you guys are still there :S**

***And here's a question:**

**I know you guys have read The Hunger Games long before it got popular (because of the upcoming movie), so how do you feel now that everyone around you knows about it? x**

**Carol**


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